


The Cave of Secret Sands

by NocturneOwl



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Gen, Horror, Transformation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturneOwl/pseuds/NocturneOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first to notice anything odd was Heavy. In the beginning it was nothing serious..." This is a silly story with monsters galore, in the spirit of the TF2 Halloween events. A strange creature is howling outside, and the RED mercs are noticing some changes! Are they fit to fend off BLU? Can they continue to do their jobs at all? How do you snipe without a head? In the latest chapter- wait, where's Soldier sneaking off to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beast of The Badlands

The first to notice anything odd was Heavy. In the beginning it was nothing serious. He found his temper rising over small frustrations he would have usually brushed off, and he was constantly slightly too warm wherever he went. He decided to switch to decaf coffee for a while, to Soldier’s disgust, and thought no more of it. Then he noticed the hair on his arms was growing in unnaturally coarse and white. It seemed like it was time to go down to Medic’s office.

“Doctor! You haven’t been putting anything experimental in our food recently, have you?”

“ _Nein_ , not since ze mushroom extract I developed made Sniper glow in ze dark. He’s only just forgiven me for that. Why do you ask?” Medic pushed his glasses further up his nose and leaned back in his chair. His office was even messier than it usually was. Books, paperwork, dirty mugs, coffee filters and junk food wrappers were strewn everywhere.

Heavy carefully sat opposite him and slid aside the tall stack of paperwork obscuring his view across the desk. “Er… sorry about ze clutter, Archimedes got into my file cabinet again.” Medic grinned and an indignant ‘coo’ sounded from the top of a cupboard at the far side of the room.

Heavy sighed. “I am not worried about this mess. There are hairs growing on my arms, Doctor!”

“Everyone has hair on their arms, Heavy. This is a normal thing.”

“ _Nyet_ , it is growing in thick and very white. It does not look normal to me. Is my hair, I know what looks normal and what does not.”

Medic’s brow furrowed. “Alright, let’s take a look at least.” He got up and sat on the front of the desk, and Heavy lifted an arm for him to study. He shuffled backwards to get comfortable, and knocked the stack of paperwork all over the floor. “ _Scheiße_ ,” he looked at it and cursed, then returned to examining Heavy’s arm.

Heavy noticed how exhausted Medic looked. The dark circles around his eyes and the way he blinked a lot suggested he was fighting to keep them open. Perhaps he’d stayed up late again, too deeply engrossed in his research notes to notice the time passing. The abundance of snack food wrappers also struck Heavy as odd. Medic enjoyed sweet things but he didn’t tend to eat them while working, and certainly not this many.

Medic stood up and cleared his throat. Heavy stopped staring at him. “Well, the colouring could just be down to age or stress related reasons. However, ze rate of growth is unusual and as you say, it is very thick. Come with me to ze clinic and I’ll do a few tests… to…” His voice trailed off. He leant on the desk and pinched his brow, eyes shut tight.

“Is everything alright, Doctor?”

“Mm? _Ja_ , I doubt you have anything to worry about, so…”

“I mean, are you alright?”

Medic sighed and put a lot of effort into a tired half-smile. “ _Ja, ja,_ I have not been sleeping at night and my eyes are aching. Time flies by when I’m reading. Forget about it and let’s do those tests.”

***

Leaving Medic’s clinic feeling a little light-headed and with a little stabbing pain in his arm from the syringe, Heavy passed by Soldier in the yard. He was yelling at his collection of severed heads. Heavy didn’t really understand what was going on; not many of the other mercs did where Soldier’s hobbies were concerned. He paused for a moment to watch out of morbid curiosity. To him it looked like a tea party or a special occasion of some sort. One of the heads was impaled on a slightly taller wooden spike than the rest of the heads. It had an ugly crown that Soldier had probably fished out of a crate. Maybe it was the most important head. The Head of Heads. Who knew? Heavy kept on walking.

Elsewhere, he came across Pyro staring intently into the coals of a barbecue that Engineer was tending to from the comfort of his Rancho Relaxo chair. Spy and Scout were arguing about how many sodas Scout reckoned he could drink in three minutes. Sniper and Demoman were nearby with a collection of empty tin cans. Demoman was firing them out of his Loch-N-Load and Sniper was shooting them out of the air. A standard slow day with Reliable Excavation Demolition. They would be living and sleeping on this base for the duration of their deployment there whether there was any work to do or not.

Heavy thought about Medic, and wondered if he’d be able to find something to help him relax and get some sleep. For now, he’d have lunch with Engineer and the rest of the crew. If Medic didn’t join them, he’d take some food to him later.

***

A blood-curdling howl rang out across the Badlands that night. Each one of the RED mercenaries heard it, and each one bolted from their bunks to the nearest window in their rooms. The pale glow of the full moon revealed nothing in the pitch black, and the wind whistled ominously through the wire fences outside. Everybody held their breath. Satisfied that there was nothing out there, that it was perhaps a rogue coyote, a trick of the wind or just their imagination, they turned away one-by-one. That was when an even louder, discordant howl sounded across the desert once more and made even Heavy’s tough skin crawl. 

At once, everyone scrambled out of their rooms into the hallways, and agreed to congregate around the big round desk in the Intelligence Room where they would be safer.

“What in tarnation was that noise?” Engineer yelled, waving around the wrench he kept under his pillow. “If one of you is playing some kind’a practical joke it ain’t a funny one.”

“Mmmph-mmph-mmph!” yelled Pyro, dressed in a shapeless striped pajama onesie and gas mask.

Medic, Demoman and the others were clearly shaken, looking cluelessly at one another. It was Spy who attempted to bring order to the group.

“Gentlemen…. We must stay calm. Gentlemen!”

At this moment Heavy barged in, the last one to join the group. “What was that? That did not sound like any animal I know of.”

What happened next happened very quickly. Everybody turned to look at Heavy. Before anyone answered him, they all started screaming. Scout and Sniper leapt five feet in the air and hid behind the desk. Demoman stared at the half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand in alarm, back at Heavy, back at the bottle and then smashed it on the ground. Engineer ran towards Heavy screaming, and whacked him around the head with his wrench.

Caught completely off his guard, stars flashed before Heavy’s eyes and he passed out on the floor.

***

When Heavy woke he was propped up against the desk in the Intelligence Room and chained to it. Dazed, he looked up to see the gawping faces of his team-mates, a safe distance away. Along with the restraints, they’d also wrapped him up in a kind of coarse hair blanket. No, wait! That was his own hair! He had grown a thick, shaggy coat of white fur overnight. It wasn’t just on his arms, it was everywhere. His fingernails were gnarled, sharp and black, and his teeth felt different too. Two fangs protruded upwards from his bottom jaw, like orc tusks. What had happened? Was he a—

“WEREWOLF!” Scout yelled and pointed.

The group began to panic and talk over each other, except for Medic who was staring at Heavy intently. Heavy shot him a pleading look, and Medic cleared his throat.

“I do not think Heavy is a werewolf. It is odd that these symptoms have manifested on ze night of ze full moon but those teeth do not look canine to me.”

“But we all heard ‘im howl!” Sniper interjected.

“Doctor!” Heavy said, “You did blood test on me, yes? You would have found something today, yes?”

Medic scratched his chin. “Ah, er, ze results are not ready I’m afraid. But ze most important thing for me is that you have control over your actions, you have not tried to attack us, and you speak as if your mind is still your own. Werewolf or not, I do not think you are any threat to us.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Doctor, but I don’t think you ‘av ever held a doctorate in crypto-zoology, ‘av you? You will ‘av to do more than that to convince me.” Spy wrinkled his nose.

“AwoooOOOOOooooOOooooo!” Once again the terrible howl, the shivers down their spines. It wasn’t Heavy, but it was outside and much closer than before.

“It’s not me! Untie me! Let me out!”

“AWOOOOOOOOOO”

“It’s in the building,” Spy’s eyes widened. “Well, so long.” He cloaked himself.

Sniper hid himself behind the desk with his rifle trained on the door, and Scout and Pyro stuffed themselves underneath it. Medic and Engineer frantically fumbled with Heavy’s bindings, cold sweat running down their brows. Demoman just sat on the floor in resignation, regretting smashing his only bottle of booze. Suddenly Scout raised his head above the desk.

“Guys, where’s Soldier?”

“AWOO!”

A six foot tall, vaguely humanoid wolf creature with ivory fangs as long as fingers leapt into the room at such speed that Sniper missed. It was too late. It lunged at the defenceless Heavy who let out an awful cry. The rest of the mercs shielded their faces, unable to watch but unable to move. Then Heavy’s screaming turned into something else.

“Haha….ahaha…. stop…. Stop leetle wolf beast, it tickles me, ahahahaha…..”

The great canine monster was stuffing its snout into the side of Heavy’s face and licking him like a lap dog. It wore a bandolier and an ill-fitting round helmet that obscured its eyes…

“ _Mein Gott_ ,” Medic gasped.

Soldier the werewolf let out a series of happy barks, ran around in a circle on all fours, then crouched on the floor with his wagging tail in the air; the universal language of a playful dog. Nobody else seemed quite as happy about the situation.

Spy uncloaked himself and exploded, “HOW? WHEN? Soldier is a werewolf and Heavy is some sort of sasquatch-yeti. Somebody PLEASE tell me zat you drugged my coffee zis morning and now I’m hallucinating. If you own up now, I won’t even be mad and I’ll only break _some_ of the bones in your body.”

“I would worry a lot more about how we’re gonna change them back,” Engineer said as he finally undid the chains around Heavy’s arms. “Sorry buddy, you gave us all a fright.”

“No hard feelings,” replied Heavy, rubbing the side of his head.

“This reeks of Merasmus,” Demoman muttered. “Soldier, ye mangy dog! He’s your roommate. Did Merasmus do this?”

Soldier barked.

“Ach, don’t tell me ye cannae talk? Can ye at least nod?”

Soldier nodded. Drool flew everywhere.

“Is that a ‘yes, you can nod’, or a ‘yes, Merasmus did this’?”

Solider shook his head.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” Demoman wailed, and Soldier put his head in his giant paws.

Spy chipped in. “Merasmus can wait. For now, we need to decide what to do with zem.”

“I can run some tests on them now and let you know ze results in ze morning. It’s not like I was asleep anyvay. But should we allow them back in their own rooms, or something a bit more secure?”

“Let ‘em sleep in their own beds for now. They seem harmless enough. If anything funny happens though, you both get one of these.” Sniper shook a box of gun cartridges at Heavy. He could just make out the writing on the box: _Hale’s Own Silver Bullets – For Best Results, Wrestle Werewolf First._

Everybody went their separate ways to their bunks. Pyro tickled Were-Soldier behind the ears as they passed.

“Well zen, let’s get you two to my surgery. I should at least be able to tell if this is the result of something you’ve ingested. I’ll take blood, hair, urine and keep ze dissection to a minimum…”

An unearthly, vicious snarl emanated from Soldier’s mouth.

“Ah. N-no dissection then, fine.”


	2. Heads Or Tails

Much of the nervous energy and paranoia from the night’s events had dissipated by the morning when everyone woke up unscathed. Some of the mercenaries had overslept, but Heavy, Spy, Soldier and Engineer had gathered around the canteen table while they ate breakfast to hear Medic’s diagnosis.

Medic scratched Were-Soldier behind the ear while the beast was gnawing on a large bone. “I hope you didn’t take that from my surgery, Soldier,” he sighed and patted the top of Soldier’s helmet. “So, ze good news is you are both in incredibly good shape... For a werewolf and a yeti. Ze bad news is I have no idea how to reverse this! There were no clues in any of ze samples I took that suggest the cause. And you wouldn’t let me operate on you, so…..”

Soldier barked fiercely at Medic, making him flinch.

“Ah! Not so loud, _bitte_! My headache is bad enough as it is.”

Heavy felt bad for poor Medic who had once again missed out on sleep to finish his analysis. He looked even worse than he did the day before.

Engineer was tickling Were-Soldier’s snout. “You be nice to Medic, ya hear? If we’re gonna figure out a cure for you an’ Bigfoot over there, Medic’s our best shot an’ he ain’t feeling too good. Now, who’s a stinky mutt? You? You’re a stinky mutt. Aww, yes you are, yes you are…”

Soldier whined and tried to lean away from Engineer’s reach. His indignation was interrupted by the voice of Demoman somewhere upstairs.

 “AUCH, YER GOT TO BE BLOODY KIDDING ME! MERASMUS, I’M GONNA TEAR YE A NEW ONE!”

A few seconds later and Demoman charged through the door. Well, it would be more accurate to say slithered. In place of his legs he had a long serpent’s tail from the waist down with round scales that glittered like emeralds. Several small snakes hung from underneath his hat, like hair. His one good eye was bright green, his pupil a dark slit like that of a reptile’s.

“MEDIC! GRAB THE QUICK-FIX AND FIX ME! NOW!”

The snakes in his hair hissed in unison.

Medic blinked. “I’m sorry Demoman, I have no idea how to…”

Demoman swung his tail in rage, knocking over a supply cabinet. His hair-snakes hissed louder and spat.

“At this rate, everyone on the darn base is gonna turn into something nasty-lookin’. Has anyone else changed?” Engineer’s answer came in the form of Scout and Pyro standing at the door.

“Doc? Help. Help us.”

Scout was hunched over in the doorway, and Pyro had their arm around him. He looked the worst so far. His clothing was torn and blood-stained, his skin was a sickly grey-green pallor. Parts of his flesh were peeling off, revealing bone and sinew beneath. His left cheek had completely gone, exposing his teeth on one side. His voice was hoarse and dry as bones.

“I think I’m a zombie.” Scout rasped.

“Fascinating,” Medic gasped.

Spy shot him a dark look.

“Mmph mph mmmph?” Pyro mumbled. They no longer had a mask, but in place of their head was a large and imposing ram’s skull with two curly horns protruding from the side. Oddly, their voice was still muffled. Their flameproof suit was shredded from the waist down, and below that were two auburn faun legs with cloven hooves. A long wispy tail sloped down from the base of their spine and tapered off into an arrow shaped barb. Pyro had coiled it around one leg for safety. They playfully headbutted Scout in the shoulder.

 “Pyro, cut it out! Pyro gets to be a demon. I feel like I’ve gotten the rotten end of this deal. Eheh.” Scout forced himself to laugh, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Hit me with the Medi Gun, Doc. I can’t deal with this. I can’t even drink anything without it spilling out of the hole in my face.”

Medic was too transfixed on Scout’s new physique to listen to anything he was saying. How could he be moving when his body was in such a state of necrosis? It wasn’t just a supernatural occurrence to Medic; it was a medical miracle. He had to learn more.

“Does it hurt?”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel anything. Please get me back to normal, I’m never going to have any luck with chicks as a freakin’ corpse!”

“Don’t be so ‘ard on yourself, Scout. At least you smell better zis way.” Spy tittered, toying with his flick knife.

Scout stuck a bony middle finger up at Spy, and then shouted in protest when Medic came over to shine a bright light into his eyeballs.

“Amazing… but if ze flesh is dead, how is it still moving? Look to ze left for me, Scout. Mm-hm. Now move your eyes to ze right…”

“Doc, can you stop being your creepy self for five minutes and help me out instead?”

“MMMMPH.” Pyro seconded that.

“I suppose I’d better take everyone to ze clinic again and see if I can do anything to help. Scout, I could really use a glimpse into your brain, if you let me take it out to study it I’d really—“

“No freakin’ way.”

Pyro sprang forwards in a rattle of bones and headbutted Medic aside.

“Oooft! Pyro, please don’t…” Medic groaned. “We had better go and wake up Sniper and let him know what is going on. I hope he hasn’t grown an extra head or something.”

“Quite the opposite, Doc.” Sniper said.

Sniper’s body was standing in the doorway carrying around his detached and disgruntled head underneath his arm.

“ _Wunderbar_!” Medic gasped, before he felt everybody’s eyes on him. “Er, ahem, that is to say…. All I mean is… how fascinating!”

***

It was an intensely busy day for Medic. After taking blood, hair, saliva, hair and tissue from each mercenary, he enlisted the help of Engineer and Demoman to bottle and label everything. If a cause couldn’t be determined then the next step would be to try and increase his teammate’s comfort levels.

However, Scout’s zombie body was resistant to the Medi Gun. His body could be healed just enough to hold his bones together if they broke apart, but it wouldn’t undo any of the rotting. Scout begrudgingly allowed Medic to poke around inside his chest cavity, but it was so foul in there that Archimedes didn’t even want to sit in it.

Medic’s curiosity about Sniper’s head grew the more he investigated it. Medic had experimented before with keeping heads alive independently from their bodies with varying degrees of success. In fact, he still had the live head of a spy that worked for BLU a long time ago, which he kept in a fridge attached to a small battery pack. To Sniper’s horror, Medic decided to briefly introduce them to each other for fun. It was the first time the BLU Spy’s head had smiled since being put in the fridge.

Sniper’s situation was baffling. Sniper’s head was resistant to any effort made to reunite it with his body. It was like trying to stick two magnets of the same polarity together. After trying for too long and being poked in the eyes by clumsy fingers one too many times, Sniper’s patience reached its limit and he bit Medic’s hand. Medic threatened to stuff him in the fridge with the old BLU Spy’s head, and Sniper let go. Then, Sniper’s body snatched his head away from Medic, tucked it under his shoulder and stormed out of the surgery.

Samples taken from the mercenaries who hadn’t yet turned gave no clues as to what the future held for them. Tension ran high as they gathered in the Intelligence Room once again. Everyone was speaking over each other, except Medic who was staring at the various sample jars and dishes he had lined up on the table with his notes. So much work with so little progress had taken away the remainder of his waning energy, and sitting amidst a crowd of loud voices was the last thing he wanted.

Demoman was shouting angrily down the phone in the corner of the room, tail slapping on the floor. “What do you mean yeh’ve got better things to do than casting complicated spells in order to make our lives more difficult? It’s the only thing yeh ever  do, Merasmus! Were-Soldier can be your problem when you get home, and yeh can see how you like it when he’s tearing up yer furniture and pissing in your boots! No! Stick yer spellbook up your arse!” He slammed the phone down hard, and the snakes in his hair hissed just as angrily. He stroked one of the snakes with his little finger. “Sorry for shouting in your face, ye wee little thing.”

“So? Is this Merasmus’s fault?” Engineer asked.

“Eh? Ah, no, it couldn’t have been anything to with him. He’s been trapped down a well for days with nae credit on his cellphone and nobody around to get him out.”

Quiet murmuring circulated the room before giving way to an awkward silence.

“That’s that, then,” Spy shrugged, and Merasmus was immediately forgotten.

Sniper, clutching his disembodied head in his upturned hat, had a sour look on his face. “You know, one thing that’s been bothering me is why you haven’t turned into anything, Medic. Of the three people who haven’t turned, you just happen to be one of them. Funny, innit? It’s almost like one of your ‘ _Oh by za vay, I put my latest experiment in your coffee zees mornink and zat’s vy you’ve been hearing ze furniture speak to you und your piss eez gonna be lime green for a month_ ’ episodes, innit? Because if that’s what this is, Medic, I swear I’m gonna—“

“You do not have proof of this! You are just angry and you want someone to blame!” Heavy said. “Also, your German accent is terrible.” He folded his giant hairy arms.

Scout objected. “No, no. Sniper has a point. I mean, that accent was terrible, but he does have a point. Medic has pulled off plenty of crazy shit on the unsuspecting! He’s been way more interested in seeing how my new body works than actually doing anything to help me!” Scout’s jaw unhinged for a moment, and there was a sickening squelch as he took hold of it in both hands and pushed it back into position. “I bet he could do something about it but he’s just sat there! He’s just sat there and he’s not even defending himself! Have you been up planning this for weeks? Is that why you’ve been complaining you’re so tired all the damn time? Give me an answer!”

Medic only stared back at the accusing faces, eyelids drooping and head pounding. There were too many yelling voices. The room was starting to spin. His eyes were drawn to the vials of crimson liquid in front of him but they all blurred together.

“NYET! DOCTOR HAS BEEN TRYING TO HELP!”

“-bloody megalomaniac wanker, thinks it’s fine to just play around with people like lab mice-“

“-freakin’ crazy… always making something weird…“

“Gentlemen, we should speak calmly about this like adults, now is not ze time to risk splitting ze group down ze middle-“

“AWOOOO!”

“-absolute bloody shambles-“

“-and shut your yaps, dag nabbit daggit!-“

Heavy looked down at Medic, concerned. He was leaning forward with his head in his hands. What was it? Was he going to faint? Vomit? As the others continued to shout at each other, Medic wearily raised his head, looked Heavy in the eyes and said, “I’m so sorry, Heavy.”

Was that a confession? Heavy didn’t believe it, but he didn’t understand what else it could mean. However, what Medic did next made things a bit more clear. He slammed his hands on the desk, lunged forward and grabbed several vials of blood from the collection in front of him. The room came to an abrupt silence when they saw him raise every jar of blood to his mouth one by one and slurp them back like shots.

Nobody knew what to say. Nobody dared move. Medic suddenly looked a lot more alert and a lot less ill. He licked the drops of blood he’d spilled on his hands and let out a short gasp of sated thirst. That’s when everybody caught a glimpse of the long, sharp fangs in his mouth and noticed his eyes turning scarlet.

Medic’s maniacal laughter broke the silence; he almost sounded drunk on the power he had been revitalised with, but it soon deteriorated into something that sounded a bit closer to sobbing.

“AhahahHAHAHAhaaaah…. Oh…. Oh…. Zis is very bad…”

It suddenly made sense to Heavy. Just as Heavy had felt changes in his temperament and the hair on his arms, Medic had felt something was amiss, and fought against slipping into a nocturnal sleeping pattern. The snack food in his office was probably because he wasn’t getting energy from normal food.

Heavy put a hairy yeti arm around Medic. “I-i-is not so bad, Doctor...”

More sobbing. “Oh but it is! I’m sorry Heavy, I drank the blood I took from your first test. I was starving.” Archimedes flew in, sensing his friend’s distress, and landed on Medic’s shoulder. Heavy did a double-take when he noticed Archimedes also had tiny red beady eyes and tiny fangs protruding from either side of his beak. 

Everybody else was dumbstruck, but Spy groaned. “This is madness. I give up. Only disturb me when you want someone to put you all out of your misery for good. It would be my pleasure.”  He strode away to his smoking room.

Medic wiped his face and regained a little composure. “Zis is the worst possible outcome for me. I can’t carry on my life’s work if I’m hindered by an uncontrollable urge to consume it! I am a monster!”

Demoman heartily slapped Medic on the back with the end of his tail. “Ehh, Medic? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you were always a monster.”

The doctor chuckled a little between sniffs and couldn’t help smiling at that in spite of himself. “Blunt as a hammer, aren’t you?”

Demoman grinned. He had fangs too. Retractable ones, like a viper’s.

“You will try your best, Medic! What do we do now? Heavy does not want to continue to be a yeti. My hands do not fit around trigger of minigun so I cannot hold Sascha, and this makes me sad.”

“Luckily, I am still able to go out in sunlight with only minor discomfort. I will be able to do whatever must be done. But it depends. Sniper? Scout? _Alles gut_?”

Scout was still scowling. “Maybe I’ll believe all this when you fix me, Doc. But maybe I know our best chance at this is if we all work together. Alright.” He nodded.

Sniper couldn’t nod, so he made the ‘OK’ symbol with his hand and said, “Y-yeah. We need to stick together. I’m sorry mate, y-you’re clearly… I shouldn’t have….”

“Nonsense, Sniper. You’re both entitled to be wary,” Medic grinned, his fangs glinting in the light. “After all, it does sound like something I would do.”

***

Spy sat alone in his smoking room, doing the same trick with his butterfly knife over and over again. Was all of this any worse than the bread teleporting fiasco? Would he have preferred a long, drawn-out death by tumours or an eternity in the body of some sort of hideous creature with those eight other idiots?

He thought now would be a good time to have a last cigarette as himself, in a body that was his own. He sat there undisturbed for quite a while. He dozed off at some point but was woken up by the clatter of his butterfly knife dropping to the floor. His cigarette had also fallen out of his mouth and rolled away. He got up to retrieve it, but the strangest thing was his body didn’t come with him.

At first he thought he had triggered his cloaking device by accident, but that wasn’t the case. He was a thin, spectral outline of himself standing over his own body, which was still slumped in the chair.

“ _Zut alor_! So I’ve changed too. I am a ghost. Or… maybe I’m just dead.” He looked down at his body and was about to check it for signs of life, but he heard the door creak behind him. He thought about cloaking, and his spectral body automatically made his outline perfectly invisible.

“Spy?” Scout was poking his head around the door. Déjà vu. “We’re collecting as many books as we can on horror stories and mythical creatures. Demoman and Soldier have gone to, uh, borrow stuff from Merasmus’s place. If ya find anything in there, can ya come out and let us know? Uh… I’ll take your brooding silence as a ‘maybe’ and a ‘get out of here before I stab you in the eyes, Scout’. Okay. See ya.”

Scout left, and Spy became visible once more. That was fantastic. He could cloak at will for as long as he wanted! The possibilities raced through his mind; soundlessly chasing down foes and stabbing them in the back; gliding through the walls of the enemy team’s base to get straight to their Intelligence; sapping enemy turrets and escaping without leaving so much as a footprint behind. He laughed to himself, a deep hearty laugh that grew and grew the more he imagined becoming the most unstoppable Spy the world had ever known. This was far too much power for one man to have! He eagerly reached down to grab his butterfly knife from the floor. As his fingertips closed around the handle, they passed through it. He swiped for it again. Straight through.

He couldn’t touch anything.

“ _Merde_.”


	3. Beasts and Dead Men

“Where did ya get that from? Put it down, ya mangy mutt and help me look for something useful!” Demoman the Basilisk scowled at Were-Soldier who was carrying around yet another large bone he had picked up on the way to the house he shared with Merasmus. Soldier’s ears pricked up and he scampered off to bury it in the front yard to save for later.

“I swear, yeh’ve definitely got some sort of hoardin’ problem. All them heads, an’ bones now…” The snakes in his hair hissed gently. “Aye I know, pets. Bonkers, that lad.”

Demoman found his emerald serpent tail to be a useful third arm while sifting through a pile of old, musty books on the floor. So far none of them had been useful.

“I must say, I’m really disappointed in yer roommate’s book collection. I expected there to at least be something on folklore we could use. I know hundreds of stories, me. Did I ever tell you the one about the insurance scammer that turned out to be a selkie? Or the mad warlock that disappeared to go an’ live with the mole crabs?”

He heard Soldier bark from outside.

 “Aye, I’m getting carried away… we’re gonna need details, maps, even spells. Merasmus has got to have all the really important ones hidden somewhere, like that bloody book about bombs. Don’t touch that thing if ye see it. Soldier? Soldier, are ye gonna come back and help me or what?”

The cover of an old faded leather tome embossed with skulls and broken bones caught his attention. The dark slit in his reptilian eye widened. The title on the spine had almost completely worn away, so he had to squint and concentrate hard on the letters to discern them. To his surprise, the corner of the book’s cover bulged and slowly began turning grey. He rubbed it with his thumb. It was stone! The harder he focused on it, the faster the book transformed. “Oh no…” He looked away and focused on a candlestick on a nearby shelf. It took some time but sure enough, the brass dulled and took on the gritty texture of rock where his gaze fell on it.

“Shite, that’s the last thing I need right now! Soldier, get back in here and grab whatever books ye can. And for Chrissake don’t look me in the eye! I’m turnin’ things into stone! We’ve gotta get back as quick as we can.”

***

Meanwhile, back at the RED base, the team were in uproar once again. Engineer had intercepted a radio transmission that revealed BLU would be instigating an Intelligence raid within the hour. So much more was at risk than usual. If BLU took the Intelligence, it wouldn’t be long before Miss Pauling or their employer got involved. No-one could know the RED team had become a literal freak show of incompetence or their livelihoods would be on the line, perhaps even their lives.

They each took positions around the base, ready for BLU’s approach. Engineer, the only one left unaffected, had set up a few sentries around the perimeter. Medic and Heavy stuck close together while Medic attempted to charge up an Übercharge with the Medi Gun. It didn’t seem to be working very well on Heavy’s yeti form and required some tinkering with.

Meanwhile, Sniper went up to one of the rooftops to be on lookout. He was having a lot of difficulty aiming his rifle with no head. The best he could do was balance his head in the crook of his elbow and awkwardly hold the butt of his rifle against his stomach to line his eyes up with the scope.

“Bloody hell! This is even harder to aim than it was filling a jar with pi- OW!” His head rolled off his arm and onto the floor. He stopped rolling when he hit Pyro’s cloven hooves.

Pyro tilted their head and looked down at Sniper. They gently nudged his head with a hoof but other than that didn’t move.

He wasn’t keen on asking the demonic goat-Pyro for help but he didn’t have a choice. “Oi. Pyro. If you’re just gonna stand there, give me a hand? …Please? Hey, let’s play a game…”

“Mmph mmmmmmph!” Pyro clapped their hands together in glee and danced on their faun-feet.

A few moments later, Pyro was holding Sniper’s head in place on his shoulders, turning it to keep Sniper’s eye in line with his scope. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better.

Zombie Scout pulled himself up onto the rooftop beside them. Sniper caught a glimpse of the exposed tendons moving about in his arms. Gross.

“Sniper! Spy wanted me to pass on a messa-aaahghllghaaah…” His jaw dislocated again. He squished it back up until it clicked. “Ow. Yeah. Spy said he found the BLU Sniper, and he’s apparently gunning straight for you, so be careful. Pyro, stay put until they’ve pushed forward a little, then get up behind them and do what you do. You guys are our eyes.” He climbed back down the roof and ran off back the way he came. He wasn’t his usual lightning-speed self though. He was clearly too worried about keeping his body in one piece to let loose at top speed.

This battle was going to be an ordeal for everyone.

Sniper hoped Heavy & Medic would be able to Übercharge and carry the team. “No pressure, lads.”

“Mmmph mmph!” The startled Pyro saw something flicker on another rooftop across the yard and pointed, dropping Sniper’s head in the process.

“OW, WATCH WHAT YOU’RE BLOODY DOING!”

***

BLU Sniper clambered up the North side of the RED base to find a rooftop with lots of cover. Today was the day. He could feel it. Today was the day he was going to wipe that smug smile off the RED Sniper’s face for good.

He found a suitable position by some thick ventilation pipes and crouched low. From this vantage point he could see BLU Spy making light work of some of the enemy sentries on the floor below, clearing a path for the rest of their team to advance. Shouldn’t be long now. BLU Sniper quickly scanned the rooftop opposite. He was in luck! He could just make out the silhouette of RED Sniper, who was waving his arms about like a madman. Very unprofessional.

“Today’s the day, my #1 mate…” BLU Sniper raised his rifle’s scope to his eye. “The day I finally put a round in your big ‘ol bonce…”

BLU Sniper recoiled in horror. He couldn’t shoot RED Sniper in the head. RED Sniper didn’t have a head. It wasn’t possible; it had to be a trick. He took another look through the scope. Was that the RED Pyro? Why did they have goat legs and demon horns? Why were they twirling around with RED Sniper’s talking, disembodied head?

BLU Sniper took a deep breath and thought about it rationally. He’d seen plenty of weird stuff during his time with BLU. The Pyro could easily be wearing a costume. The enemy Sniper and Spy could be performing some elaborate prank involving cloaking devices. He felt stupid for getting spooked so easily.  

Suddenly, a cold chill crept down BLU Sniper’s neck and spine. He whirled around, swiping out with his kukri hoping it would catch the inevitable RED Spy in the neck. It did hit RED Spy in the neck, but it went straight through him as though he was made of smoke.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” RED Spy’s ghostly outline whispered, his voice a strange and distant echo. He began to laugh, a ghoulish and terrible laugh that cut through BLU Sniper’s consciousness like a jagged blade and filled him with fear.

BLU Sniper fainted.

“ _Bonsoir_ …”

***

Inside the base, by the weapon lockers, RED Medic and Heavy were attempting to deploy an Übercharge but it wasn’t going well.

RED Spy’s ghost appeared next to them. “I hope you two can carry this. BLU Sniper is out cold, but I don’t know how long that will last. That leaves eight BLU mercenaries against a handful of beasts and dead men. I don’t know how many sentries Engineer can maintain with no support.”

Heavy scratched his hairy chin. “Can’t Pyro help?”

“ _Non_. Pyro is busy playing tripod for the Headless Huntsman, who by the way, is completely useless in his current condition. A sniper with no head is less useful than throwing Jarate on a grease fire. Can you at least get the Medi Gun working on Heavy? We’re counting on it.”

Medic grimaced. “I think I can get it to work, but I need to recalibrate it. Ze alterations to Heavy’s physiology seem to be causing ze energy to become absorbed but I don’t know where it’s going. Bah. I need time, Spy! Stall them.”

Spy sighed and his outline faded.

“Even if we do get this working, Doctor, I do not think we can take on the whole BLU Team by ourselves. Definitely not like this.” Heavy murmured.

“Fear nothing, _mein Freund_ , and practice growling ferociously. All we need to do is scare them.”

***

“AAAAAAARGH!” RED Scout’s throaty battle cry echoed as he ran in circles around the BLU Scout and taking pot shots at him.

“AAAAAAAARGH!” BLU Scout’s screams of terror rang out just as loud as he did the same against his ghastly and decrepit enemy. He managed to land a shot in the centre of RED Scout’s chest. The bullets tore a hole through him, but the running cadaver barely flinched. “Geez! What the hell is going on? How are you still breathing?”

RED Scout stopped briefly, teetering on his decaying leg bones, and raised a can of Crit-A-Cola to the good half of his mouth. “Uh, maybe ya haven’t noticed, but I don’t need to.” He took a large gulp of cola, some of it trickling out of the new hole in his chest. Liquids didn’t nourish him at all, but they were still useful for soothing his dry, raspy throat temporarily. He charged towards BLU Scout with his baseball bat at the ready.

BLU Scout turned on his heel and ran, disappearing around a corner. He reappeared almost immediately with some friends: the glowing blue figures of their Übercharged Medic and Heavy.

“HA HA HA! I’M COMING FOR YOU, LEETLE BABIES!”

_This is it. This is the end for me_ , thought RED Scout. _Minigun rounds are gonna tear me into pieces, and they’ll have to send me back to my mom in a… what was it Demoman likes to say? A soup can? I don’t want to be rotten Scout soup! Help…_

“Stop hiding behind your hands like a coward, Scout! Evasive manoeuvres!” Scout opened his eyes to see the phantom figure of RED Spy floating beside him. “I’ve just discovered I can do THIS!”

Minigun rounds zipped past, hitting Scout a few times but most of them missed. The enemy Heavy was strafing as though there were more targets to hit than there actually were.  Scout ducked into cover and saw why: RED Spy had created four other ghostly illusions of himself. By the time the enemy Heavy realised he was shooting at nothing, his Übercharge wore off.

“Alright, Spy!” crowed RED Scout. “Fist bump!” RED Scout’s hand went straight through Spy’s shoulder.

“Idiot…”

Their celebration didn’t last long, as the rest of the BLU Team appeared behind the Medic and Heavy, weapons drawn.

There was a gunshot and the BLU Spy, now uncloaked, fell behind RED Scout an arm’s length away. _At least Sniper and Pyro are making themselves useful_ , Scout thought. _But where’s Engineer? Now isn’t the time to be camping out in a chair by the Intelligence!_

“It’s all over for you, maggots!” BLU Soldier sneered. Another distant gunshot sounded and hit him in the leg. He screamed in pain and let loose a rocket, which narrowly missed RED Scout as he ran from the crescendo of BLU Team’s gunfire.

“ _Alles gut! Los, los, los!_ Übercharge ready!” RED Medic yelled gleefully as their brutish, hairy Heavy charged across the battlefield with him clinging to his back. “Remember Heavy, all we need to do is scare them away.”

BLU’s front line faltered a little at the sight of the giant white yeti stampeding towards them, baring his sharp ivory tusks and roaring. They reluctantly continued to push forward.

“Deploying Über!” Medic flipped the switch with a sadistic grin.

As he and Medic glowed red, radiating with energy, RED Heavy roared again and charged straight at the BLU Heavy. He picked him up in his thick black claws and tossed him at the other BLU mercs as easy as a child tosses away a doll. BLU Team backed away in panic, their voices almost drowned out by RED Heavy’s roaring and his Medic’s insane laughter.

“Fall back! If ye want tae live, I’ll cover ye!”

“Get behind ‘em! Get the Medic first! Get the Medic!”

“MPH MMMMMPH!”

“GET - OUR - HEAVY - OFF ME - BEFORE I SUFFOCATE - _DUMMKOPFS_!”

RED Medic wiped his tears of laughter away and tapped his large friend on the head. “Ha…. Time to turn back, Heavy…. Hehe… the Übercharge is going to wear off any second…”

But it didn’t. It wore off for Medic, but RED Heavy continued to glow bright red, throwing things around in a rampage.

“H-Heavy…” Medic tugged Heavy’s fur.

RED Heavy turned around to look at the tiny creature on his back, and Medic realised there was no recognition for him in the big beast’s glowing amber eyes.

“Heavy… it’s me, ze Medic, I’m on your team, I-”

RED Heavy growled and began clawing at his back to get a grip on Medic, presumably to crush him like a wet sandwich.

“Bloody hell, it’s goin’ for it’s own Medic!” gasped BLU Demoman. “It’s unstoppable!”

BLU slowly picked up their weapons and their wounded. They took a few steps back, muttering amongst themselves about whether it was worth waiting to see if the yeti beast would pick off the RED Team for them.

“Heavy? NO. PLEASE, NO!”

RED Heavy had raised Medic in the air by his shirt collar and was about to fling him full force across the map, when-

Something large dropped down from above and whacked Heavy in the chin. The force was enough to loosen his grip on Medic, who dropped to the floor gasping for air. He looked up to see the gigantic, smiling jaws of something vile and familiar. Nobody on the RED Team could forget those yeasty tentacles covered in slimy green tumours. It was another monster bread loaf.

The entire BLU Team bolted. That was their limit. With any luck, the next time they attempted a raid on the RED Team’s intel, there wouldn’t be a RED Team left.

The monster bread loaf continued to smack the enraged RED Heavy into submission, and Medic was able to get a better look at his wholegrain saviour. It was smaller than the atrocity Soldier created after teleporting bread loaves for three days all those months ago, but it was bigger than Heavy. It was smacking Heavy around with a wrench, and embedded in the dough above its jaws were a pair of goggles and a yellow hard hat. Medic smacked his palm to his forehead in dismay. He should have known it was Engineer.

“Mmph mmmph!” Pyro sprang past on their nimble faun feet and repeatedly airblasted and headbutted Heavy backwards with their thick skull. They were much faster than Heavy and disorientating him was easy for the fearless Pyro. After a while, the Übercharge suddenly wore off and Pyro butted Heavy onto his rear in the dirt.

“Huh? What is going on? What is THIS? Did Soldier do the teleporting of bread some more?” Their silence made Heavy even more agitated and confused. “Where is BLU Team of babies? Medic, why are you so far away? Why are you all looking at Heavy like this?”

RED Spy uncloaked beside him. “There’s no nice way to put this, but you went berserk after being Übercharged, so Engineer--”

A bread tentacle reached out for Heavy and helped him to his feet.

“—Engineer stopped you from flinging our Medic into the sun and breaking every bone in his body.”

“Mmmmph!”

“And Pyro helped.”

Heavy looked deeply upset. “Nyet, oh, Doctor, I’m so sorry, I… I don’t remember…”

“It’s not your fault Heavy! No hurt feelings, ja?” Medic appeared to be in bright spirits, but Heavy could see his hands trembling. Heavy went quiet after that.

“INCOMIIIIIING!” RED Demoman & Were-Soldier soared over a fence and landed a few feet away from the rest of the crew. “Ehhh, excellent sticky-jumping if I do say so meself!”

Soldier dropped the leg bone he was carrying and barked.

Demoman stared at the floor. “Er… I’ve got some good news an’ some bad news. The good news being we found some books full o’ arcane mysteries that might help us. The bad news being—“

“This absolute wanker was laughing at me not being able to aim me rifle and ‘e turned me bloody body into bloody stone by looking at it! I am so pissed off! I’ll bite ya bloody ears off, mate!” Sniper’s angry head seethed under Demoman’s arm.

There was an awkward silence, followed by the sick squelch of one of Scout’s necrotic arms falling off.


	4. Teething Problems

That evening, Scout flexed his fixed-up grey arm and returned to Medic’s surgery to peek through the door. RED Spy’s ghost was shouting his figurative lungs out at Medic, who was holding his body half in and half out of a large refrigeration unit.

“Absolutely not, Medic, unhand me at once! I still can’t believe zis is what you meant when you said you’d keep my body alive! I should be on life support, not in ze freezer like a joint of meat!”

“I know what I’m doing, Spy,” Medic opened a smaller fridge next to the big one. Scout could just make out what looked like the decapitated head of the old BLU Spy and an attached battery pack.

“Kill me,” it said, regarding Medic with weary disgust. Its gaze turned to the RED Spy’s lifeless body. “Oh, I see. Starting a collection, are you?” The fridge door abruptly closed.

RED Spy was seething. “I’m going to try and forget what I just saw, and I’m going to forget that you’re stuffing me in the freezer and hoping for the best, but I absolutely cannot allow you to use me as a snack dispenser!”

“But Spy, I’m hungry. You saw what happened to Heavy! To Demoman! We’re getting worse. I can’t allow myself to be hungry, I don’t know what will happen if I-“

“How many jars of blood and brain and god-knows-what have you got sitting around? Drink zat instead!””

“It’s not fresh, Spy! And more importantly, it’s my life’s work, you cannot just ask me to-“

“To hell with you and your work! Quack as you are, even you know a body holds a finite amount of blood, and I’d prefer mine to stay where it belongs.”

“I only need a little if it’s fresh. One tablespoon. _Ein kleines bisschen_...”

“But you said yourself to look at what happened to Heavy. What if you can’t stop?”

There was a tense silence, then Medic roughly shoved Spy’s body back into the big fridge and slammed the door. Hands shaking, he unscrewed a bloody jar of dubious contents, sniffed it, then took a long sip. He noticed Scout. “What do you want?”

 “I, uh, I just wanted to say my arm is doing good, so… thanks. Look, we need you in the Intelligence Room. We need all the people we can get who can both see the books and read ‘em out loud.”

“Ah yes, how is Demoman doing?”

“The second eyepatch you put on him seems to have done the trick, but he’s not too happy about it.”

“Mhm, didn’t expect so. Let’s see the books, then.”

Spy reluctantly followed them both.

In the Intelligence Room they were greeted with the sight of the woeful Demoman sulking in his seat with his serpent tail coiled around a crate of liquor bottles for comfort. Engineer Loaf, Demon Pyro, Sniper’s head and Yeti Heavy leafed through the stack of books Demoman had borrowed from Merasmus.

Pyro’s dry goat skull creaked slightly as they turned pages for Sniper’s head to read along with them. Engineer Loaf had three books open and balanced in different tentacles. Meanwhile, Heavy was focusing hard on the smallest book with the smallest print. In his gargantuan claws it looked like something from a doll’s house.

Were-Soldier was nowhere to be seen.

“Medic!” Sniper’s head growled, almost rolling off the table. “Can someone move my stone body off the roof before your bloody birds roost on it and shit down my neck?”

“We can’t just grab it and drag it down here, we don’t know how solid it is. We can send someone up for it later. For now, we all need to focus on finding-”

“GRAAAAAH! IS NO USE! NOTHING IN HERE!” Heavy hurled his tiny book across the room and it hit one of Pyro’s curly horns.

Pyro jumped backwards in alarm. Their bony jaw swung open and a jet of red flame briefly spurted from their mouth.

“That’s new,” said Scout, leaping out of the way.

Pyro was overjoyed; everyone else much less so. Pyro insisted on skipping around the room breathing fire in all directions. Heavy lunged forward to protect the books. Engineer swiftly launched his bread tentacles at Pyro. He had to hold Pyro’s jaws closed with another bread tentacle until another mercenary offered them crayons as a distraction. When they couldn’t find any paper, Pyro was content to sit in the corner and slowly melt the crayons with their newly found flame breath.

Engineer’s underbelly was a little singed, but he had been quick enough to avoid any serious damage. The room filled with the scent of toast.

“Can ye all stop acting like ninnys and find something in them bloody books I brought back for ye? Do I need to take this other eyepatch off and give someone a good, hard staring at?” Demoman took a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Ah, this booze dinnae half taste cheap, but it’s strong.”

Scout peered closer. “Demoman, the label on the bottle says this is drain unblocker.”

 “How am I to know? It’d be concrete mix by the time I managed to read the label.” He took another swig. “Has anyone looked at that big book with all the skeletons on the cover yet? I was looking forward to having a wee nosy at that but now I can’t.”

The tome Demoman described was sitting in the middle of the table. Heavy reached forward for it. He noticed some of the pages had stuck together where Demoman’s basilisk gaze had turned the spine into stone. The afflicted areas crumbled away easy enough with a hard slam from his giant hairy fist, allowing the pages to be removed for further study. They were covered in symbols, numbers and diagrams that looked like instructions.

“Now this, this is something! It looks like a book of spells.”

“Lemme see, lemme see! Is this a potion?”

Scout and Engineer leant over the table for a closer look and they skimmed over the words together. The ingredients looked simple enough to procure. Bone broth, rosemary, thyme, sage, leeks, parmesan cheese to garnish…

Their smiles faded in unison.

“This is a recipe for soup.” Heavy leafed through more of the pages. “They’re all recipes for soup.”

 Scout slammed his face against the table and sobbed.

“Well if ye wanna make some, at least we’ve got plenty of bread,” Demoman grumbled, swishing the tip of his jade green tail in Engineer’s direction.

Heavy clenched his fists and a low growl built up in his throat. He stood up sharply and threw his chair across the room, yelling, “ARGH! Now is not time for soup! It makes Heavy want to BREAK EVERYTHING IN THE--”

Scout and Pyro ducked for cover. Medic backed away slowly, saying “Heavy, _bitte_. Calm yourself. This isn’t you, it’s the beast. Please.”

Heavy snarled again, then his breathing gradually returned to normal. He unclenched his fists and flopped down on the floor. He still felt awful about attacking Medic. Medic had insisted he was okay after multiple apologies from Heavy, and they hadn’t spoken about it since. Still, the despondent Heavy could see Medic was keeping his distance and it made him too embarrassed to apologise yet again.

The tense silence was broken by the sound of Were-Soldier’s claws clicking on the wooden floor as he entered the room. He was covered in dust and dirt, which flew everywhere when he shook himself. Everyone in close proximity to him groaned.

“Ugh! It’s gone in me mouth, you bloody mongrel,” Sniper’s face screwed up and he made a feeble attempt to spit out the sand. Scout opened a can of soda for him and put in a straw, while Spy tried to keep a straight face.

As Sniper drank, Medic looked on in amazement. “But where does it _go_?”

“And where’s it going to come out?” Scout said. “You’re going to have a hard time filling jars with-“

“Piss off.”

Soldier barked sharply and dropped something he had strapped to himself with his bandolier. More books. It appeared that on his travels he had made a stop at his house and stolen more of Merasmus’s things.

Spy massaged his temples. “Ugh. This is going to take forever.”

“You don’t think we should try to get Merasmus out of that well he’s stuck down and then just _ask_ him about what’s in his books?” Scout said.

Everybody paused for a second before collectively deciding, “Nah”.

***

Three days passed. One wall in the Intelligence Room was plastered with torn pages, Post-It notes, diagrams, Pyro’s crayon drawings and a spider’s web of coloured wool connecting them all together. Everybody studied the wall and added to it throughout the day. Spy, Medic and Engineer would stand in front of it all night, until Medic grew sickly and returned to his surgery to scavenge the emergency blood bank. Three solid days and nights of research and they still didn’t have any idea what was happening to them, or if it would ever stop.

Some of the team were discovering different ways to cope with their strange bodies. During the day, Heavy and Pyro would run out into the dusty expanse in front of the base to let off some steam. Engineer Loaf had brought them a pile of old tyres, which Heavy would lift up one by one and hurl across the yard. Pyro would chase after them and incinerate them with a jet of flame from their jaws, with Heavy cheering them on all the way.

Engineer supervised them both to make sure they didn’t get themselves into any trouble. He didn’t mind. It took his mind off being a giant loaf of bread, however briefly. Scout would drop by under the guise of keeping Engineer company, but it was obvious who needed it more. Engineer was one of the only mercenaries left who could stand to be near Scout’s unpleasant stench for a prolonged period of time, and that was only because he didn’t have a nose of any kind. Spy couldn’t smell anything either, but it didn’t stop him from being rude about it.

Demoman was dealing with the situation better than anticipated. He was drinking an awful lot and napping frequently to pass the time, but no more than was expected of him. He spent most of his time in the Intelligence Room by the wall of research, showing off his vast knowledge of folklore by telling his stories to anyone who would listen. Were-Soldier enjoyed them and curled up in the coils of Demoman’s tail, making himself comfortable for a long story session. Sniper tolerated them; he had nothing better to do since the rest of the team had taken to using him as a paperweight on the Intelligence Room table.

Chaos erupted on the fourth day, and it all began with Scout. Scout had not been faring too well in the desert heat, and he thought it might be a good idea to bandage his body to cover up some of his flesh and keep it intact. The stiffness in his hands was worsening, impacting his fine motor skills, so he asked Medic for some assistance with securing the bandages.

Medic had not been keeping on top of things in his surgery. Dirty, empty jars and broken glass littered the countertops, and the musty smell of dried blood was inescapable. While Medic rummaged through one of his cupboards for supplies, Scout hoisted himself up onto one of the gurneys, frowning at the squelching and popping sounds of gristle. On the table next to him rested a glass beaker filled halfway with blood, presumably Medic’s lunch.

The damp squelch of moist cotton wool on flesh brought it to Scout’s attention that Medic was wiping his arm down with disinfectant.

“Too little too late, Doc,” rasped Scout.

“It’s standard procedure,” Medic tittered at him and reached for the bandages. He missed and knocked the beaker over, spilling the contents everywhere. “ _Sheiße_! Not again! I’m so sorry Scout, I’m very tired during the daylight. I keep making a mess of things.”

“It’s okay, Doc” Scout murmured, not taking his eyes off the oozing red liquid. The scent of fresh blood wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It was almost sweet.

Scout stared blankly at the bandage roll as Medic wrapped it around and around his arm. He zoned out for a moment; maybe he closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor with his teeth deep in Medic’s shoulder. He was brought to his senses by Demoman and Heavy shouting at him. Medic was yelling too. Scout let go and felt Heavy’s big hands pulling him away.

“SCOUT! What are you doing? Don’t make Heavy crush you!”

“Please, guys, no, I had no idea- I didn’t know- DON’T CRUSH ME!” Scout was thrown to the floor and pinned there by Demoman’s muscular tail.

“I can’t see you but I can hear ye! Don’t say another word ye bitey little bastard!” Demoman’s snake hair hissed, sharing his anger.

Behind them, Medic was inspecting his wound and Heavy ran to his aid, gently laying a hand on his good shoulder.

“Doctor!” Heavy said, “Are you going to be alri-“

Medic flinched away and snarled, baring his fangs, which made Heavy jump. The doctor’s eyes were glowing scarlet and burning with something unfriendly. The room temperature dropped to ice cold levels.

“ _Nicht berühren!_ DO NOT TOUCH ME!”

“Doctor, I am not going to attack you. I am so sorry that I did, it sounds like we must talk about-”

“I have no need of your pitiful apologies, mortal! I have been gifted ze power of a god!”

There was a tear in Medic’s sleeve that revealed the mark of a deep bite, closing up and healing on its own. No Medi Gun, no health pack, just pale flesh regenerating itself abnormally fast before their eyes. Medic took up his bonesaw and approached Heavy.

“I am untouchable! I am deathless! _Unsterblich_! Do you know what zis means?”

“It means you can back down. I am not going to fight you.” Heavy didn’t like the way Medic was brandishing that bonesaw. He was fairly sure the madness in Medic’s eyes was due to the vampirism taking control, as his own beast form had taken over him, and that Medic didn’t fully know who he was threatening.That was all it was. Wasn’t it?

Medic hissed, his fangs glinting in the light. “Well, I am going to fight you. I’ll turn you. All of you! I am the nocturnal, fanged god of the Badlands! Join me!”

“Stop pointing that saw at me, leetle man! You are not really a vampire! Do you even know how to turn us? Can you even have a Vampire-Sasquatch? I tell you, it is not a thing!”

“I have a few ideas. They’ll either turn you or kill you all. Either way, it’s going to be so much fun!”

Medic swung his blade at Heavy, who backed away and threw the gurney in between them.

“Heavy, lad, just smack some sense into him,” Demoman cried from the end of the room.

“I can’t!”

“Medic’s tough, just slap him about a bit!”

“Then maybe I attack everybody else. What then?”

Demoman sighed and reared up on his tail. “Fine, if you won’t hit him, I bloody will! If I can find him…” It was then that Demoman realised that although he couldn’t see, he wasn’t completely blind. He could hear the metallic ringing of the bonesaw as Medic swung it around, and he could feel the vibrations from each footstep coming up through the floor along with the direction they were coming from. It was enough to get Medic’s rough position, and Demoman struck out quickly with his tail. A direct hit.

Medic was thrown backwards and crumpled up on the floor. The bonesaw flew out of his hands and slid out of reach. His attention had been diverted from Heavy, but in the next instant he was up again and running at Demoman.

Feeling the approaching vibrations through the floor, Demoman coiled up his emerald tail and braced, hoping to stop Medic in his tracks. It didn’t work; Medic tackled him with enough force to slam his human upper body into the door of the surgery, which came off its hinges. Exchanging blows, they both spilled out into the hallway, knocking over the chairs in the waiting area. The racket they made soon attracted the attention of the other mercenaries who hovered at the end of the hallway, unsure of how to intervene.

The group gasped and froze in terror when they saw Medic seize Demoman by the throat and stick his fanged teeth deep into the side of the snake-man’s neck.

Demoman yelled in agony. “Bastard!” Without thinking he reached for the eyepatch over his good eye, but seconds before he pulled it away he felt Pyro’s hands clasping it to his face, accompanied by furious mumbling. Then he did the only other thing he could do: he brought Medic’s arm to his mouth and pierced it with his retractable viper fangs.

Medic screamed.

Demoman wrenched his teeth out again, spitting and swearing.

Pyro was frantically mumbling something that nobody understood. The exception was perhaps Engineer, who slapped one of his tentacles against the floor and abruptly ran away.

“Where are you going, you big crusty coward?” Spy yelled after him. “There’s nothing down there but the kitchen! It’s not snack time!”

“Tell that to our Medic,” Sniper grumbled. He was being carried in the whining Were-Soldier’s jaws. A thick globule of wolf drool oozed down his cheek.

Medic’s arm stung with pain. He clasped his other hand around Demoman’s neck. “Damn you! You should revere me, pitiful belly-crawler. I should drain you dry just for that.”

“Bite me again and my tail’s gonna squeeze yeh into bone meal.”

Medic hissed, gearing up for another attack.

“Go on. I dare yeh. I dare yeh! Square-go like.”

At that moment, Engineer bolted around the corner clutching something round and white in one of his bread tentacles. Pyro saw it, let out a cheer and clapped. Engineer galloped towards Medic and as soon as he was within range he tackled him, stuffing the little papery ball in the doctor’s mouth and squeezing his jaw shut around it.

Wriggling out of Engineer’s grasp, Medic unsteadily scrambled back onto his feet. His swaying movements were drunken and erratic. He hissed and spat, and the half-chewed bulb of garlic Engineer had forced into his mouth rolled away. He couldn’t see, feel or hear anything for the moment; the overpowering flavour and stench of garlic were all his senses knew. His knees buckled underneath him and he sank to the floor, spluttering and dry heaving like a cat struggling with a furball.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Heavy muttered to Scout.

“Well, strong as his stomach is, even if we get our normal bodies back I don’t think he’s gonna be able to look at garlic bread ever again.”

Heavy scowled. “Now is not time for joking.”

Finally, Medic’s retching stopped. He rolled over onto his back, exhausted. The strange, radiating glow from his red eyes had gone. He sat up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I-I do not feel so good. That taste isn’t going to leave me for a long time.”

Demoman snorted. “And which taste would that be? The taste o’ the garlic or the taste o’ the chunk you took out of my flippin’ neck?”

The dazed Medic looked up at Demoman and saw the bleeding wound on his throat. Then he looked down at himself, to see that his white coat was ripped and covered in blood splatters. Lastly, he looked up at Heavy and Scout who were standing in the doorway to his surgery. Medic searched their faces for a clear explanation, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to hear it.

“We… we messed up, Doc,” shrugged Scout. “You and me both.”


	5. Bones Of Contention

Spy was in a foul mood. He slipped through the walls to the yard outside. He kicked out at an empty soda can, forgetting that his foot would just pass through it. He grunted and moved on.

RED Sniper’s headless body was up on the roof where he’d left it, now a completely useless statue thanks to Demoman’s Medusa powers. Spy floated upwards to inspect it. It was frozen with Sniper’s rifle in hand, also stone, pointing down at the area where they had fought the BLU team. Some of Medic’s doves were roosting on Sniper’s shoulders, and there were already several white streaks down his arms. Spy was sure Sniper wouldn’t enjoy eternally being covered in another creature’s waste, which was ironic. He managed a small chuckle to himself.

Spy floated over to the area he’d frightened the BLU Sniper into fainting. He wasn’t there anymore. He must have woken up and wandered home, or perhaps one of the BLU Team had returned especially to rescue him.

There was an excellent view of the sunset from this ledge. Spy would sometimes come out to smoke at this time of day, when the base was bathed in a warm orange glow. The dry heat of the desert sun would just be starting to give way to a cool evening breeze that Spy liked to feel on his face. He’d even remove his mask for it. What a pity that he couldn’t feel it now.

A startling metallic noise made Spy cloak. He looked around frantically for the source of the noise, but relaxed when he noticed the RED Scout far below, kicking the same soda can he had passed crossing the yard. Still cloaked, he drifted down to land beside the sulking Scout.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” Scout muttered. He was covered up to the neck in fresh bandages. Medic must have returned to his senses enough to finish his work.

“Cheer up,” Spy breathed into Scout’s ear, who nearly jumped out of his rotten skin.

“Jeez! Spy! What is wrong with you?”

Spy uncloaked. “What’s wrong with you? You’re ze one moping around like someone pissed in your cereal.”

“If you haven’t got anything helpful to say, just disappear.” Scout scowled.

Spy didn’t say anything else, but he stayed where he was.

“I don’t remember anything between Medic putting disinfectant on me and Heavy trying to stop me from eating him. Is that how it ends? Am I gonna get stuck like that?” Scout sighed. “Yeah yeah, go on, make a joke about how I’ve always been brainless or whatever.”

 Spy remained silent.

Scout stared at the dirt. “If that’s how it’s gotta be, then I don’t want Ma to see me like this. Tell her something else.” He paused, fiddling with his bandages. “Boy, You’re a quiet one today, aren’t ya…?”

Scout’s voice trailed off as he and Spy caught a glimpse of Were-Soldier sauntering across the other end of the yard. His big tongue was flopping around at the side of his mouth, and his tail was wagging hard.

“Is this a freakin’ game to him, or what? I’d really love to know where he keeps disappearing off to, ‘cause it seems like he’s always in a good mood when he comes back.” Scout sighed.

“Sssh.” Spy noticed Were-Soldier gaining speed. He had been acting strange since this whole thing started. Nobody had put much thought into it since Soldier always acted strange.  “Scout, we’re going to follow him.”

“We?”

“ _Oui._ Don’t argue, you’re just going to sit out here and sulk anyway. Follow me. Quietly.”

Scout obliged. They passed the yard were Soldier kept his collection of heads on poles. Soldier stopped briefly to sniff them with his big wet dog nose before moving on. Spy wrinkled his translucent face in disgust. The heads, fallen members of the BLU team from previous battles, stared through him with blank eyes and gaping mouths. Scout reached out to poke one, but Spy hissed at him.

There was one head that they didn’t recognise. It was an old skull on a slightly taller pole than the rest of them, and it wore an ugly-looking gold crown encrusted with gems. It was the gaudiest and most tasteless piece of headwear Spy had ever seen. A waste of hard-earned wages. He shook his head and floated off after Soldier, following the giant taloned paw prints in the dust.

It wasn’t long after leaving the base that Soldier came to a halt in front of an eight foot tall chasm in the side of a sandstone cliff face and disappeared into it. Scout and Spy entered it too, relying on the scratchy sound of Soldier’s paws on stone to lead them through the inky darkness. They were going down, deep into an intricate cave system. A soft glow faded into view and Soldier’s stalkers could just make out the wolf-man slipping into a side tunnel towards the light. The sight that greeted them when they came out of the other end both confused and amazed them.

A large, round cavern opened before them, lit with torches that bathed the area in a soft orange glow. Fine silk and satin drapes were strung across parts of the stone walls, brightening up the dank walls with rich flashes of emerald and crimson. Gold coins and bone fragments were scattered sparsely amongst the orange sand that covered the floor. Most startling of all was the impressive and pale marble throne that sat at the far end of the cavern, atop a flight of sandstone steps. A lifeless skeleton was slumped in it. It was clothed in what once were fine velvet robes in the same red and green colours that adorned the walls, but were now damp and tattered rags. Numerous bones were missing, but most notably the skull.

Spy groaned. “Soldier, don’t tell me you—“

“BARK! BARK!” Soldier leapt into the air with joy at the sight of Spy and ran around on all fours in a circle as if to say, “ _Look what I found! This awesome place! Who’s a good dog? Me?_ _Is it me?_ ”

Ignoring Soldier’s joviality, Spy hovered over to the throne for a closer look. There were strange symbols inscribed all over the throne and across some of the bones. The sand covering the steps had been disturbed by heavy boots and enormous paws.

Scout noticed some more carvings underneath. “Hey, uh, what’s all this crap? Is it in English?” He scrabbled at it with his stiff hands.

Soldier cocked his head to one side, then the other. He bounded over and took a deep breath. Then he blew the remainder away in one forceful gust and Scout coughed violently amidst the cloud of sand. The words underneath were revealed:

**I NEED MY REST, SO I’LL BE BRIEF:  
CURSED BE THE COMMON THIEF.**

Spy read the text aloud and scoffed. “You realise what this means, don’t you, mutt? This is all because of you and your disgusting head collection.”

Soldier let out a high-pitched whine and tried to avoid Spy’s piercing glare.

“Ugh, don’t cry like that.” Scout grumbled. “We just go and get the skull, bring it back, pop it on this fella’s mouldy shoulders and get the hell out of here. I’ve seen enough terrible B-movies to know there’s a pretty good chance it will undo the curse. Come on, let’s go.”

A voice echoed throughout the cavern which rattled Scout’s bones. If Spy still had bones, he was sure he would have felt the chill down to his marrow.

“Do I sense another soul, lost and rended from their body?”

Spy scanned the cavern. Apart from himself, Scout and Soldier, no one was there. “Who’s speaking?”

The voice rumbled again, like thunder. “I have been slumbering in peace in this tomb for a thousand years, only to be awoken by an insolent peasant rummaging through my earthly belongings! An ill fate awaits all those who wrong me. It has been decreed by the King of the Secret Sands!”

“Is that who you are?”

“Yes. You asked, didn’t you? I am King. The King of the Secret Sands, the great and mighty-”

“ _Oui_. I heard you the first time. Are you missing something?”

“You will address me as a King, spirit! Do not interrupt me again. I am indeed missing my skull and several of my bones, hence I cannot return to sleep. A peasant idiot wearing a round helm took them away with him. I tried to call him back, put the fear in him, but he ignored me.”

Spy glanced around at Soldier. He was rolling around in the sand. Scout was wide-eyed and frozen in disbelief.

The King of Secret Sands continued. “By now the curse should be well underway! I expect the peasant or another serf in his household of thieves will be running back here with my remains! I wonder what form the curse took shape for him…”

“So, er, Your Grace,” Spy said. “If this idiot were to bring your remains back to your throne and profusely apologise, would the curse be lifted or would they be punished further?”

“Why do you ask, curious spirit?”

“Oh, no reason, I-”

At this precise moment, Soldier inhaled a snoutful of sand and began to sneeze violently.

The formless King gasped. “That creature! I recognise that helm… IDIOT PEASANT, IT’S YOU! And you, curious spirit and your puny man-child friend - you must be results of the curse. That’s what brings you before me now, isn’t it? His accomplices? Guards! Seize them!”

The ground beneath them trembled. Round dimples appeared in the glittering sand and grey spines of varying sizes poked their way up from the dirt, rising slowly. They were surrounded. The spines were obviously attached to some creature, or creatures, that none of the mercenaries had a desire to meet.

“RUN!” Scout yelled, hobbling back the way they came as fast as he could.

Soldier and Spy were not far behind. They did not dare look back to get a glimpse of the bizarre creatures emerging from the sand.  


End file.
